


Silent Rite

by Marien



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-22
Updated: 2004-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 09:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1643153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marien/pseuds/Marien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Story by Marien</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent Rite

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Renet

 

 

SILENT RITE, SILENT NIGHT

She shouldn't have done it.  
She knew that, of course. Her teacher had warned her more than once that "if you're too  
angered to think through a count of ten, you're too angry to be doing spells."  
Not that Esme ever meant to admit it to a single living soul; however, her present  
company didn't meet that description.

They were alone in her cottage. Normally that might have worried her,  
except that she knew he hadn't been expecting to come.  
She poured a cup of hot tea for him by force of habit, and he took it.

I DoN'T UNDERSTAND.  
"What's not to understand?" she snapped. "You were there."  
HOW CAN A STATUE HAVE HAD A SOUL? Death sounded vaguely offended.  
A LIFE OF SORTS, YES.

"I s'pose the sculptor gave it some of his own, that Arty Sahn, not that he ever meant to be  
that generous." She sipped her tea. "But it all started with Gytha and her man..."

Six days ago  
The village of Bad Ass, Lancre, the Ramtops mountains

Esmerelda Weatherwax hurried down the street, followng Albert Ogg to the Inn.  
HIs wife had gone into labor an hour ago. They had two children already, so Albert  
was no newcomer to what went on at childbirth;even if the extent of his involvement had  
been sitting in the kitchen boiling water, or making food. She preferred that to a  
man flapping around, all nervous and underfoot ,trying to "help."

Given her druthers, she'd have preferred either one to Albert appearing at her door  
just shy of midnight, his face as white as the snow on the ground, and telling her that Gytha  
needed her a month too soon.

The door stood open. She entered, and crossed to where Gytha lay on a rumpled  
bed. Her temper softened a trifle at the look Gytha gave her, fearful and pleading.

"Peace be on you." She took the younger woman's hand. "And on the baby..."  
"Is---everything all right?" Gytha swallowed hard.  
Lancre's Witch motioned for her to be silent. Gytha obeyed, and Esme  
half shut her eyes.  
Borrowing was a tricky subtle sort of magic, best not used with a heavy touch.

Now she used it to listen and look for the source of Gytha's trouble.  
She sat back, and cackled, shaking her head. "Never know when to stop, do you?  
And that half-witted 'midwife' Leonie should hand back every coin you paid her,  
Gytha."

"What? Why..."

"Children. Not child. Looks to be that you'll have a son as well as another daughter.  
You didn't see?"  
"Twins?" Albert sounded caught between shock and delight. "A boy too?"  
"Fine and healthy, the pair of them," Esme said smugly. "Impatient to be born. They  
take after their father, I'd say."  
Albert blushed and went into the kitchen.

He stayed there til near sunrise, when the sound of a crying baby lured him out.  
Esme laid a blanket-wrapped bundle in his arms, while Gytha held the other.  
Albert held his son tenderly. The infant opened his eyes and looked up at him.  
"What do we call him?" he asked, looking over at Gytha. "We never even though of  
a boy's name, Mistress Davreel swore up and down it was another girl. She's never  
wrong. We had 'Karen' for a girl."

"She wasn't wrong," Gytha pointed out. "She just didn't know..."  
Esme snorted. "Even a busted clock's right twice a day."

A knock on the door interrupted them. Albert went to open it. The ladies couldn't see  
who had arrived, but they half heard the conversation.  
"No." Albert's voice grew louder, harsh. "Not here, and not now. She's just had  
our twins. You can wait til she's---"  
Esme felt a cold tingle slide down the back of her neck.  
Magic. Not her kind; this was wizardly magic, and the newcomer had a feel of anger about  
him, anger and jealousy that felt old, deep-running.  
She raised a hand, the single warning gesture she'd give. The snarl of muted thunder  
from outside their house made both men fall silent.

"Good day to you, sir wizard," she sneered.  
"And to you, Mistress Weatherwax." The man tipped his hat to her. "I'm Pavlash of  
the Wizards' Guild. It's an honor to meet you." He glanced past her to Gytha, and  
back. "I see now's a bad time," he said, smiling. "Congratulations, dear people.  
We'll just leave our wager til another day, shall we? It'd be unfair of me to..."  
"Wager?"

"I promised him a contest," Gytha said . "No, not a fight!" she added quickly. "Friendly  
like. We'd take turns, with spells or such, and each of us would have to try to undo what the other  
one did. The loser would owe the winner a gift It's Hogswatch in a week's time. That's why we  
came to visit Albert's family here, after all..."

She wilted under Esme's glare. "Here in MY village? Did neither of you think to ask me?"

"We didn't think we'd bother you," Pavlash interjected. "A lady of your years doesn't need to worry about every little thing , and this was as Mrs. Ogg says, only a game--between a wizard and a witch. "

"My...years?" If her expression had been cold before, now it was icy enough to have frozen the sun.

"And of course, a gentleman doesn't take advantage of the weaker sex when they're ...indisposed.Or at any other time," he added hastily, taking a step back.

"I see." Karen began to wail, and her parents' attention turned to her. Which gave Esme the opportunity to grip Pavlash by the ear and drag him outdoors.  
She let the door slam behind them. It suited her mood.

"I may be near to your mother's age, boy, but this is still my territory. That plain enough for you?" She let him go.

"Extremely clear." He rubbed at the side of his head. "Do I understand you to mean that you'd like to take Mrs. Ogg's place in the contest? "

"I don't know. What are the rules you two had set ?"

Pavlash gave her a look of grudging respect. "Wise of you to ask first. Ah. The contest was to run for three days, and nights, no longer. Each of us would cast a spell and the opponent would have that long to try to undo or counteract it. If neither of us could manage it, the bet would be off. "

"Then I'll do it," she said flatly. "When does the game begin?"

"It's well past dawn now today. Shall we reconvene tomorrow?"

"Shall we what? I'm not--"

He sighed. " I'll meet you tomorrow at sunrise, if that suits you, madame."

"It does."

She marched inside to give Gytha Ogg a piece of her mind. The twins proved too distracting. Esme suspected that Gytha barely heard her, just said  
"Yes" to whatever was said.  
She went home to her cottage to prepare for the next day. Wizards. Bah! Humbug, that's what he was. Insolent. She smiled nastily as she thought over spells and invocations.

They met at the town square. By then, half the village's population had heard about the  
imminent "duel". Esme and Pavlash found themselves surrounded by a crowd of curious  
onlookers.

She stood across from him, dressed in black as befitted a witch, pointy hat, shoes, and all.  
He wore a cape that was embroidered with arcane symbols, purple and gold, bright hues  
that made her eyes sting, over an ordinary tunic and trousers.

"You're our guest here," she said . "First round to you., whenever you're ready" "Very well." Pavlash looked around, and smiled. He held out both hands. The earth shook, and a spot of bare ground turned hot, glowing,  
the ice melting away. Flowers bloomed. A wind blew the smell of new grass to them.

There were appreciative murmurs from the audience. "Is it real? ""Can he do the entire village, I wonder?"

"It's quite real, for now," the wizard said. "A complex combination of illusion and alchemy. And that's not all. Does someone have a wooden spoon or ladle I might borrow?"  
Someone handed him one . He nodded thanks, and dropped it into the middle of the  
charmed circle, then bent to pick it up. The brown wood had turned yellow. "Cor!""He's turned it to gold!"

Pavlash's lips twitched. "Anything that touches the circle, for the next three days, will undergo the same transformation. Careful--!" he waved someone back. "Don't touch the ground with bare hands!"

"Nicely done," Esme complimented him, bowing slightly. She let none of her emotions show on her face, listening to her neighbors and acquaintances' delight at that wizard's parlor tricks.

Everyone watched as she straightened her pointy hat, and set to work. "Illusions are...fun," she mused aloud, pitching her voice to be audible. "I know quite a few.  
Truths, now, that's trickier. Or people make it so." She took out a small black iron and crystal hourglass, the top full of sand, held it up. "No lies be told,  
Lost be found,  
from now til the third  
sun's laid down..."

The air seemed to brighten. Gytha shifted restlessly.There was a sudden weight in her pocket. She reached in, and found a bracelet she' d lost  
almost four months ago. It had fallen out while she was-- "Albert, look! It's--"she glanced up,  
and then gasped , averting her gaze from her husband's face.

Pavlash' s eyes widened, and he nodded to Esme. "Clever, and subtle. I shall have quite a challenge.It's village-wide, I take it?"

"So it is. For the three days only. "

"May the better magician win. " He bowed. "Care to join me for a drink, in the meantime? To take the edge of this chilly weather?"

"No, thank you. " She smirked. "I think you'll find that there's not much good to be found  
in the drink while my spell holds, good wizard." At his blank stare, she laughed. "No lies  
includes havin' one's mind clouded, so..."  
"Ah. " He chuckled wryly. "Well, I'll go for the company if nothing else. "

"Peace be on you. " Esme withdrew to home, already thinking of counters to the spell  
the "good wizard" had cast. She'd half expected her own incantation might unravel it,  
but apparently not. That was a powerful bit of work;she'd felt the change deep in the  
earth's bones.

She fell asleep in her chair, in front of the fireplace, still mulling over possibilities.Things had been almost too quiet lately. Now she had something to concentrate on,  
she was giving it her full attention.

Meanwhile, chaos reigned in Bad Ass.

People were finding out that a constant inability to lie was a Very Bad Idea.  
Subjects such as one's appearance, surprises for the holiday, what one really thought of  
his/her/boss/husband/wife/in-laws, politics, religion, and past arguments, were quickly  
agreed to be off-limits.

The agreement only took place after several brawls left people seeking out Nanny Ogg  
for bruise poultices and asking plaintively if there was no way around the 'sobriety'  
rule. She just clucked, and dispensed a few herb teas whose contents would have  
made Esme frown in disapproval..

Though that didn' t help with ghosts, resurrected pets, wagons full of rediscovered  
lost items, some of which the owners had wanted to lose, and the rain of frogs and  
insects, though that only lasted a few hours.

For Gytha, the breaking point nearly came when Albert asked her if she REALLY thought that they shouldn't move to Bad Ass to be near his family. She refused to speak, fighting Esme's spell with all her might, and bolted outdoors.

She left him with the babies and walked to the 'golden circle', as some of the villagers  
were calling it. Privately, she thought it was foolish to want to be rich more than you wanted anything else. Possessions could be taken away. They didn't make you safe or happy,  
not the way Albert did, or the feeling she got while listening to her babies laugh.

She hesitated, then bent to smell the flowers growing there, careful not to touch the  
soil. They had no perfume. Disappointed, she straightened up.

"If I could have won, that's what I would have asked for," she said. "Silly of me."

"What is?" The wizard asked from behind her. "And why silly?"

Gytha turned to look at him. "A spring day . In the middle of winter. It's just  
childish. Wanting what we haven't got, but people always do."

"Human nature." Pavlash shrugged. "Ingrained responses. I've seen it everywhere.  
If nothing else, knowing what people want, how they'll react, makes my work that  
much easier."

"You'll lose, you know,"she blurted out.

He raised an eyebrow. "You think so?" He didn't seem concerned.

"She's-- she outshines everybody." Gytha looked at the ground. "I never wanted to be like  
that. I do my job, but it's like the magicks are her soul. Her world."  
She blushed hotly. "And I shouldn't be saying that. She's--"Pavlash coughed, then sneezed several times, interrupting her.

"Are you sickening?" Concerned, she felt his forehead. "You're hot! Come and I'll fix you some potion to  
take care of that."

He followed her without protest. Halfway there, she froze.

I SUGGEST YOU STAND ASIDE, GYTHA OGG.

"Stand...? Oh, no, "she whispered.  
I WAS CALLED HERE TO COLLECT A SOUL. The cowled figure pointed to Pavlash. HERE IS WHERE... Death paused, seeming confused. Behind her, Gytha heard Pavlash cough, and then inhale sharply. "Ah. A greeting, my lord Death."

IT IS NOT YOUR TIME AND YET--

"What? "

THE SOUL WANTS TO LEAVE. Death moved closer to them, peering at Pavlash."What soul?" Esme's voice broke the loaded silence. " He's not dying. I know what that looks like."

"You would," Gytha said bitterly ,and then clapped a hand over her mouth, horrified.  
The older witch gave no sign of having heard her.

"Gytha, go home. "

"You always say that! I may not be so powerful as you, Esme Weatherwax of Lancre, but I'm not your servant!"

Granny faced her, at those words. "I never called you one. You don't serve anyone but yourself, neither of us does.Witches don't. Carin' for others ain't the same thing. No, "she waved off the apology, "I say that because Albert's looking for you. Little 'Nameless' is hungry, he says, and he  
isn't quite up to the job. I'm certainly not, nanny." Teasing.

Gytha hesitated, then walked back the way they'd come.

Esme's eyes narrowed. "A soul? Pavlash--- Turn out that bag you're carrying." Puzzled, he did it. A few books,a wand, a statuette made of white stone, in the form of a woman.  
She picked up the statue with both hands. "Now that's strange...do you see it too?"Along the statue's face, a shadow moved, and she could have sworn she saw the eyes shift to follow them.

YES. Death pushed back his cowl. HOW DID YOU DO THAT? addressed to Pavlash. There was a flicker of red fire in the Reaper's eye sockets.

"I didn't. I bought that from a carver here. It wasn't anything but stone, before--:"

"Before the magics. Either my truthfind woke it up, or your bringing stuff to life included what you had on you. Easy to fix, any road."

"Is it?" Pavlash edged away from Death.

She handed the statue to Death. The Reaper set it down on a nearby boulder, and his scythe flashed as he swung . The statue shattered, bits and dust remaining.

Death put his scythe away. THAT WAS NEW.

"Sorry to call you out for nothing," Esme said. "Care for a cup of tea? I was on my way  
to have one. "

MAYBE. A LITTLE LATER.

She inclined her head. "As you like," she said pleasant.ly. To Pavlash, "For pity's sake, close your mouth before the frogs drop in."

The wizard shut his mouth.  
"You win, " he said, sounding as if the words were being dragged from his throat.

Death shrugged, saluted them with the scythe, and vanished.

"How's that?"

"The challenge was to determine how to undo my spells or counter them. You did, if not in the way I might have expected. That was the agreement. We said nothing about the solution having to be a complete one. Nitpicking would be unsportsmanlike of me."

She thought of several replies to that, but kept them to herself. Settled for, "You think magic is about what's expected? Formulas, incantations.. It's like saying wood doesn't exist without carving knives. It's what you believe that matters."

"Oh. In any event-- I have no idea how to counteract yours. Another day and a half isn't going to  
change that. I've tried everything I could think of, with no success." He hung his head.

"I can show you how," she offered. "It's all in what you convince the world to be...that, and a  
fewdropsof therightpotionin thevillagewell," she added under her breath.

She smirked, then hid it. "You want to conceive, then?"

"I think you mean 'concede', as in, admit defeat. Yes. I'll say so before the town, if you like. Only fair. " Pavlash answered with dignity.

She motioned toward the street. "After you, sir wizard. "Waited until he'd started to walk away, then moved sneakily over to the wizard's circle.  
She dropped her favorite teacup into the marked area. A few coins, too, for good measure.  
They'd make a decent birthing-gift for the twins. Karen and "whoever."  
They floated up and into the pouch she carried, the drawstrings retying themselves.

She shouldn't have done it. Magic wasn' t for such showy stuff or gambling. But lightning strike her if it hadn't been fun!

 

 

 


End file.
